How many links exist in this terrible, terrible chain that led to my inescapable self-banishment from a less-than-mediocre restaurant that may or may not be serving gerbils disguised as taco meat? Four. Four gigantic links. And here they are.
Link 1-These are the four types of men who are currently interested in me:
1) Homeless and sassy
"Marry me! We'll take my spaceship to the reception!"
2) Creepy and married
"See this hair gel? All of it is for you."
3) Truck drivers who have a significantly reduced number of teeth
It was surprisingly difficult to find a real picture for this. So I drew you a diagram. Also, this diagram features a great white shark.
4) Men who work at drive-throughs (that's right. "Through". Because "thru" isn't a real effing word.)
I'm just assuming he works at a drive through. And also, he wants your wallet.
Link 2-These are the four ways I avoid conflict
1) Pretend like there's not a conflict at all-because what are you even talking about because this is totally not happening.
2) Pretend like there's something very interesting going on behind the person I'm talking to-because really? Are they moving office furniture outside? That is so interesting!
3) Pretend like I have to leave to get gas in my car-because I've just remembered that all of the gas stations close in 15 minutes and I'll run out of gas on the way home. Yes, they close at 6:15 on Thursdays. All of them.
4) Pretend like I have a phone call-I'm sorry, I have to answer this because it's my friend who needs a thing.
Link 3-These are the four ways I say "no" to people
2) We'll see
3) Hahahahaha. I don't know.
4) Next time!
Link 4-The Situation
So here's The Situation. There's this Taco Bell by where I live. Because I come home very late (and because I have a blatant disregard for my health) sometimes I stop there on my way home. Until a few months ago when the sassy drive through man started asking for my number every time I went through.
Let me pause here and tell you that this isn't one of those fake complaints designed to make me look awesome. I'm 99 percent sure he asks for everyone's number. Because I'm pretty sure that's standard operating procedure for someone that has no concept of his lazy eye, no self-awareness that making kissy faces at customers is disgusting, and an over-inflated ego from being Head Sassy Drive Through Man at Taco Bell.
Take the fact that he asked me four times and divide that by the four ways I say no to people and you can see, if you're as good at math as I am, how this quickly went awry. Here are how those conversations went:
Sassy Drive Through Man: Hey Beautiful. Why don't you give me your number?
Sassy Drive Through Man: ...
Sassy Drive Through Man: So is that a yes?
Sassy Drive Through Man: Hey girl. You giving me that number now?
Me: We'll see!
Sassy Drive Through Man: We'll see?
Me: Mild sauce, please.
Sassy Drive Through Man: What's up. You have beautiful eyes. Did you forgot to give me your number last time?
Me: Hahahahaha. I don't know! Can I get a raspberry tea?! Ok!
Sassy Drive Through Man: Hey, sexy. You're back. It's been awhile (I was clearly trying to avoid this situation.) Are you going to give me that number yet?
Me: Next time!
Sassy Drive Through Man: Next time? Why not now!
Me: Because I'm classy! (he bought this. which is another reason we could never work as a couple.)
Sassy Drive Through Man: Well, good. Then I'm looking forward to next time.
That's when panic set in. I hadn't come up with a Plan E. What would happen next time? I'll tell you what would happen next time. I'd be forced to give him my number. Then we would talk and then we would go out and then he would take me to play bingo and drink warm beer or watch a dog fight. Then we would get married. Then we would have babies. Then I would be stuck at home watching Roseanne reruns while he worked the Taco Bell drive through and cheated on me. That's not an educated guess. That's what would happen.
Does he pressure everyone like this? I'm assuming so. Would it break his heart if I told him no? There's no plausible way. The statistical probability of him caring about actually having my number is about the same as the likelihood that he's not a serial murderer. So tell me why, after banishing myself from this particular Taco Bell and then immediately realizing that I must not actually know what the word "banish" means, did I decide to implement one of my conflict avoidance techniques, making sure that I'm talking to my "co-worker", named "Veronica" about the "reports that are due" every time I go through the drive through to avoid giving him my number? The same reason that, after I have my order, have successfully avoided the conflict and am already past the drive through window, I always tell "Veronica" goodbye and that I'll see her tomorrow.
Because I'm fucking considerate, that's why.